White Karma Novels & Stories

The golden horizon pulsed with the rhythm of their world, its light steady but fragile, as if the new whisper, Makers had stirred something deep within its core. The stone circle stood firm, its symbols now a tapestry of gold, white, and silver, etched with the choices they’d woven, the worlds they’d carried.

“I’m sorry. Just stay still ok? After a few weeks, if you don’t get another whipping, your skin will be as good as new again. I got this special treatment from a shaman. It is very effective.” “Wait…” Kiara got up quickly from the hard single bed. “Is that witchcraft? Isn’t that forbidden on pack grounds? I don’t want any of that dark magic around me.” Laura sighed and rolled her eyes before pulling Kiara back to lay on her belly again. “No, Kiara. A shaman is a werewolf with knowledge of magic while filthy witches and wizards have that shit flowing through their veins. I’d never give Blackmagic to you.” Laura assured. “Good.” Kiara said.

Although her white clan doesn’t kill with their powers, they can still defend themselves without killing anyone. “You are a white clan witch and you can’t kill with your powers lest you turn dark,” Stone spoke confidently with a silly smile written over his face. He giggled and then chuckled as he narrowed a scornful gaze on Bonnie. He's certain that any white clan witch that kills anyone with her power will automatically turn into a dark witch. Her white regalia and hair will turn black and everything about her will darken and they will not have keen attention to anything good or desire to be good. This is a part white clan witches do not what to walk on because it takes a thousand years to

Most Kota are recognizable for the reds of their coloring. They’re meant to be creatures of fire, while wolves or Kibar like Haru lean towards earth natures. Any Sage, any demon really can have another element, but I guess the auto designations make it easier for most to digest. Kiza have always belonged to Air, being winged species. Rare as they are anymore, it’s still laced in our teachings.

Karma is tall and slim, her skin is golden with intricate symbols down her arms, her hair is black and curly, her eyes completely white. “Where is she?” I stand as I growl she holds her hand up, stopping me in my tracks. “You won’t find her Fenrir. You know this. Your ‘fate’ as it seems, has never been pre-determined. You have a choice. You know how I work, yes?” she asks me. Of course I know how Karma works.

I always wondered why there are no black wolves in the modern world. More precisely, why I have not yet come across one. After all, my inner beast is a black wolf. And the answer was simple - I'm from another world, the world of magic and sorcery. Also, the gift of fire flows in my veins, and after traveling to the universe of my ancestors, I was finally able to curb it. It was only after visiting the house of my grandparents that I managed to truly learn how to control my flame. Now I will no longer allow you to wipe your feet on me, because my strength is in no way inferior to the strength of any alpha male. The frightened puppy is a thing of the past and, if necessary, I will force everyo

alpha Rowan says, he looked ruffed up, he had a big bite over his neck, and my eyes kept going back to that point on his neck. The two alphas sat next to each other on one side and I sat on the opposite one, I kept avoiding their eyes, worried that I won't be in trouble now. "Have you ever heard about white wolves?" alpha Aiden asks me and I shake my head no. "Verbal answers please," alpha Rowan order me. "Okay, haven't heard," I say in a mumbling voice. "White wolves are the rarest wolves out there, some people don't believe they exist, do you know how many there are out in the world?" alpha Aiden asks me and I shake my head no.

There was a tale passed through generations, reaching the 21st Century, about a group of werewolves’ special mutation that brings out dormant abilities from a family’s genetic line. They were said to be marked and blessed by the moon goddess for they were the first of her followers. They were given the title of Legacy Wolves, keeping up their tradition and passing on their special traits through their children.

When we were dressing, I asked Sam, “Why did Zola kneel in front of Kiki?” “What you don’t know. Of course you don’t. Kiki is a white wolf. Do you not know how rare they are?” I shook my head. “There are only a handful of them in the world. Each of them has something unique about them.” She paused for a second. “I should have guessed you had a white wolf, after all. You are a special person,” she told me.

“White signifies low strength. Black signifies growing strength. Blue signifies shaky strength. Violet signifies moderate strength. Red signifies danger. Green signifies human strength. And human strength means such a wolf is hopeless from ever attaining wolf strength.” “So, there are wolves that can never overcome their weakness?” “Yes. Those sets of wolves belong to the green category. They’ve got natural strength. Just the normal human strength. Sometimes it’s genetics, their low motivation or the will of the goddess.” “And what does yellow signify?” I asked. Her expression was unreadable. I couldn’t tell if the look she gave was a good sign or a bad one.